Phantoms
by NCIS Obsession
Summary: Yes, I am already writing a fix-it fanfic for 16x24. Just in case. Gibbs has always had conversations with the dead. Diane dropping by years after her death is no surprise. But a few other people make their own appearances, helping Gibbs to cope with his current situation and the uncertaintly of the future.


**After last night's episode I stayed up for an unhealthy amount of time to write a preemptive fix-it fanfic for next week's episode. Sad, I know.****The point is, I've got a bad habit of writing random fics on my phone during a bout of inspiration, so sorry if the formatting is off.****Hope you like my take on Diane visiting Gibbs (etc) during 16x24 "Daughters." Plus a surprise ideal ending that I know we probably won't actually get on the show.**

-.-.-

"Diane?" Gibbs asked, shocked to see the woman at his door.

She smiled, and pressed forward. "Aren't you gonna let me in, Jethro?"

Gibbs stepped aside, too stunned to say anything in response.

The redhead made herself comfortable, shedding her jacket and surveying the living room.

Gibbs shut the door and joined her, watching her carefully. "You shouldn't be here," he said, and it was true. She had died years ago, on a rooftop, right in front of him.

Diane scoffed. "What, Mike Franks gets to stop by, but I can't?"

Gibbs sighed, walking tiredly toward his basement. "Not this again," he mumbled.

Diane followed him, trudging down the wooden staircase and taking a seat on the sawhorse. She waited expectantly, her typical stubborn and nosy demeanor not lost in her ghostly form.

"I know you're not much for words, but seeing as I am a figment of your own consciousness, maybe you should start the conversation," she finally spoke, causing Gibbs to look up from the bourbon he was busy pouring for himself.

"What do you want me to say?" Gibbs shouted suddenly, the frustration from the situation with Fornell boiling over. "Your daughter is laying half dead in a hospital, and Tobias is losing it. What am I supposed to do about that?"

"She's not my daughter, she's Diane's," the hallucination reminded Gibbs, who grumbled in annoyance.

"I've lost every daughter I ever had," Gibbs spoke after a moment, sadness lacing his voice. "I lost my wife. Now the same thing is about to happen to Tobias, and I can't do anything about it."

He had seen so many others encounter the same misery he had experienced. Vance and DiNozzo quickly came to mind.

"I wish I could stop it all. All the suffering."

Diane nodded. "It's consuming you. You want to put an end to every injustice and every bit of suffering in the world. But it's too much for one person to bear."

Gibbs shook his head and took a big swig of bourbon. "I tried to let others help, but their fates were the same," he admitted. Kate. Ziva. Clayton. Who would be next? Everyone around him suffered, and Gibbs was very clear about his thoughts towards coincidences.

"My daughters," Gibbs spoke sadly, glancing up at his boat, fittingly named "Ziva."

Diane nodded again. "Kelly was important to you, but you lost her. In a way, she is the reason you are here."

Gibbs looked at his ex-wife, and suddenly her forehead dripped with blood. She, however, didn't seem to notice.

"I had others," Gibbs said plainly, his voice rough and scratchy from the hard liquor. "Other daughters."

"I know you did," the woman spoke, only her voice had changed. When Gibbs looked back at her, it was no longer Diane, but special agent Caitlin Todd.

"Kate," Gibbs whispered, his heart sinking at the sight of her and the bullet hole in her head. He stood from his perch on the workbench and made his way closer. She was so real, his mind was playing tricks on him.

Kate smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling a little. "Hello, Gibbs."

Gibbs shook his head, feeling altogether overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry, Kate," Gibbs spoke, reaching out to her forehead, but stopping short of her wound. He knew she wasn't there. There was nothing to touch, just open space.

After Kelly, Abby and Kate had come along and started to heal the old festering wound left by Kelly's absence. Abby, of course, was alive and well, but he had come close to losing her too. Kate wasn't so lucky.

"Isn't saying sorry a sign of weakness?" Kate challenged, staring expectantly at Gibbs, who made no effort to answer. "Or has that rule been thrown out too?"

Gibbs closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his fingers.

"It's all a mess," he said finally. "This whole time, rule 10 has been a lie." All these years, Gibbs thought he was the poster child for his rule book. But it turns out, he had been breaking them as long as they were around.

Kate smirked. "Just because you make a rule doesn't mean you always follow it."

Every case weighed on Gibbs, even though he liked to pretend it didn't. It was almost like he left behind tiny pieces of his soul in each case file. Now he had hardly any soul left to give.

Maybe Grace was right. He couldn't keep going this forever.

"I'm getting too old for this," Gibbs admitted, taking another big gulp of bourbon.

"You and me both, Probie," a rough voice replied. And now in Kate's place stood Mike Franks.

Gibbs stood motionless before speaking to his old mentor, who was Gibbs' most frequent ghostly visitor. "Can't seem to leave me alone, can you Mike?" he said exhasperatedly.

"I could say the same thing to you." Mike responded with a deep, wheezing laugh. "You really need me to knock some sense into you every time you have a mental breakdown?"

Gibbs poured himself a refill of bourbon before responding.

"Let's just say, it's times like these I miss our little shack in Mexico by the beach," Gibbs mused, sending a humorless smile Mike's way.

"Running from your problems won't work this time," Mike observed. "Didn't work so well last time either, if I recall."

Gibbs remembered his brief attempt at retirement all those years ago. He had felt so free of all responsibility, but maybe that had something to do with the memory loss. Now, knowing that he can make a difference and lock up the bad guys, he can't just sit idly by. But what was he sacrificing for this job? Ellie and Kasie, his newest daughters, he couldn't lose them too. Nick was headstrong, quick to act, but thoughtful. He had become a part of Gibbs' team, and was now his responsibility as well. They all had stories. Some more tragic than others, but no one had it easy. Maybe it was something about Gibbs' brokenness that drew other broken people to him.

"If I stay away, people get hurt. If I get too close, people get hurt," Gibbs lamented, clutching his jar of alcohol much too tight. "How am I supposed to protect them?"

There was no response, and then a soft, gentle voice cut through the silence. "I thought that's what your rules were for."

Gibbs nearly dropped his bourbon upon hearing her voice. She spoke so calmly, so confidently.

"Jenny."

The woman smiled and gave him a nod.

"I burned rule 10," Gibbs announced, expecting a reaction from Jenny, though perhaps he shouldn't have. She did, in fact, know everything he knew already.

"And..." she prompted him to continue.

Gibbs sighed. "And...I broke rule 4."

Jenny's eyebrows raised. "Any other rules you'd like to throw out? I've noticed rule 12 has been somewhat of an issue lately. Or maybe always carrying a knife isn't so practical. I mean, do you really need a knife when you take a shower?"

Gibbs grunted in frustration. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"How about you get your head out of the past and look at what is right in front of you for a change," Jenny challenged, her voice becoming stern.

"Because I NEED the past. I have to learn from my mistakes." Gibbs countered, his voice and temper matching hers.

"But you also say to let go," Jenny pointed out. "You tell others to ignore their feelings, to block out their emotions and move forward. How do you reconcile your rules with that?"

Jenny's voice of reason was unwelcome.

"Leave me alone. All of you!" Gibbs shouted. "Get out of my house! Get out of my head!"

Jenny promptly stood and left, her heels clicking on the hard basement floor. Gibbs watched her ascend the wooden staircase, and turned away with a huff once he was sure she was gone.

These apparitions had been pestering him for long enough, and it wasn't helping him with any of his problems. Fornell was still close to losing his daughter, and Gibbs had already lost several. He had dragged everyone he ever cared for down into his pit of suffering and despair. He had gotten emotionally involved in every case he ever worked, and he was only just admitting that to himself. It still weighed heavily on him. He carried every case, especially those dealing with the deaths of the people he loved, with him everywhere he went.

Gibbs heard a squeak on the top step of the wooden staircase, and anger filled him once again. "I told you to leave me alone," he said gruffly, taking another sip of bourbon. When the apparition didn't speak, he turned around to see who it was this time.

Ziva.

There she stood, at the top of the staircase, right where she was when she killed Ari to save Gibbs' life. Of course.

"Not you, too," Gibbs said, exhausted from all this speaking with the dead business. "I suppose you're here to tell me that it's okay to have an emotional connection to a case, and that rule 10 was a mistake all along."

The woman's eyebrow furrowed.

"Go ahead. Tell me about how my rules pushed you away, made you feel alone, and got you killed. Say it."

Ziva started descending the stairs, confusion and sadness evident on her face.

"Gibbs," she said softly, approaching him slowly.

"What?" he asked. His patience was wearing thin.

Suddenly, she jumped into his arms and held him tight, tears streaming down her face.

Gibbs' heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he began to realize that this was no apparition. This was Ziva, truly alive and breathing and standing in his basement.

"Ziver?" he asked, choking on the word as his arms made their way around her torso.

She nodded into his shoulder, sobs wracking her body.

Gibbs stood there in disbelief for several minutes before pushing her back to take a look at her. Unlike Diane, Kate, Mike, and Jenny, she looked different than he remembered her. Her cheeks were a little fuller, and her hair was cut shorter, about shoulder length.

"You're alive," Gibbs murmured, his hand framing her face and inspecting her for any sign that this wasn't real.

"Yes," she choked out, clinging desperately to Gibbs's shoulders. Gibbs was reminded of the moment he remembered who Ziva was, and what she had done after that time that he lost his memory. Their bond had always been deeper than others realized. Bound by death and trust. Right here in this basement.

Gibbs pulled her to him once more, afraid that if he didn't hold her close, her solid form would slip away and he would be left with a ghost again.

"Tony and Tali?" Gibbs inquired.

Ziva shook her head. "I will tell you everything later.

That suited him just fine. For now, he had his daughter back, and the guilt over rule 10 being her downfall was no more.

A tiny glimmer of hope appeared for Emily, Fornell's daughter. He was no longer spiraling out of control, not knowing who he was or what he believed.

Now he knew.

He was Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And he believed in family.

-.-.-

**If this could happen, that would be great. Sigh.**

**Thanks for reading! Again, we are testing the app's capabilities of publishing stories. Fingers crossed.**

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**More stories soon!**

**~NCIS Obsession**


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